


When in Uniform

by resonae



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint has a uniform kink. Steve acts accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When in Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt:
> 
> American Arrow with Clint having a military kink? Or uniform kink.

Steve doesn’t catch on at first, but in his defense, Clint doesn’t make it that obvious. It takes weeks of Clint showing up in his SHIELD gear to bed, decked out in his uniform even after he showers, and then Steve catching Clint rubbing his hands on Steve’s own suit that Steve  _finally_  catches on.

 

“Clint,” he says, gently. “Would you like to have sex in uniform?”

 

He watches Clint’s ears flush a bright red and the back of his neck dye the same color and thinks the answer is  _yes_. Clint just looks away – he’s not the type to be too expressive. It’d taken over a year and not-too-subtle pushes from the rest of the team for Steve and Clint to even get together, and then months after that and more not-too-subtle pushes from the team for them to start sharing the same floor and then the same bed.

 

After that, Steve carefully gets his Captain America uniform dry-cleaned. It takes a few efforts because they get called out and he has to wash it all over again, but he finally manages to get his uniform clean on a quiet day.

 

Clint’s out of the shower but still in his uniform, and Steve takes a moment to quietly appreciate Clint. The uniform hugs his body tightly, hugging his ass perfectly and following the lines of his lean thighs. His vest – vest because Clint hates having his arms restricted – stretches comfortably across his torso and when Clint stretches, the lack of sleeves gives Steve a full appreciation of the shifting muscles under the taut skin of his arms.

 

Steve doesn’t bother being quiet – no matter  _how_  quiet he is, he can’t beat Clint’s sensitivity. The serum made him stronger, not sneakier. He wraps his arms around Clint’s torso. Clint’s by no means small – okay, he’s kind of short, but he’s got wide shoulders filled out with muscles. All the same, Clint fits into his arms. And when Clint sees his leather gloves, Clint’s breath hitches. “Cap?” He says, his voice soft. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

Steve laughs. “I had my uniform dry cleaned four times already because every time we did, we kept getting called out.” He can feel Clint’s quiet chuckles. He reaches for Clint’s zippers and buckles and starts undoing them slowly. The vest goes easy, and the specially designed shirt Clint wears underneath is peeled quickly off.

 

The pants are a bit more of a problem, mostly because Clint’s boots have about a hundred buckles and laces. But Steve manages calmly, keeping Clint standing until he’s naked save his armguards. Steve decides to keep them on. Clint’s eyes twinkle in amusement when their eyes meet, but then Clint stands with his feet shoulder-width, his hands coming to fold behind his back.

 

“Soldier,” Steve says, rubbing Clint’s cheek. So  _perfect_. Steve is the product of chemistry. Clint – now  _Clint_  is the product of hard work, and he’s perfection poured out in liquid and shaped up. Steve lets his fingers trail over his flat abs, tracing the contours of the muscle before continuing, “Great job on the field today.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” Clint quips, and Steve grins at the pride that Clint doesn’t – won’t – keep out of his voice. Clint’s always amazing on the field. Steve doesn’t know how he keeps track of all of the Avengers. Steve and Natasha are usually ground-bound, but Tony and Thor tend to fly off into wherever they want, and the Hulk is… well. The Hulk is the  _Hulk_. But Clint keeps an eye out on everyone, keeping watch on their backs while simultaneously shooting down big threats.

 

Fury wasn’t lying when he said  _one of my best men_. Steve won’t even be surprised if Clint is  _the_  best man Fury has. Steve slides lower for a second to hook his arms around Clint’s waist to lift and push him back easily onto the bed. Clint doesn’t even look surprised anymore, like the first few times Steve was able to manhandle him so easily.

 

Steve kisses him, and Clint smiles through it, just enough that Steve knew he was doing the right thing. Clint tugged the hood off his face. “I want to see your face.” Clint explains, when Steve raises an eyebrow. That makes Steve kiss Clint again, his hands rubbing Clint’s sides the way he wants. Clint’s thighs come up to hook behind Steve’s back, and Steve grins through the kiss. He kind of wants to take his gloves off, so he can  _feel_  Clint under his fingers. But this is for Clint.

 

Clint shudders when the leather drags on his skin, buckles stuttering on his skin, and Steve thinks  _yeah not taking the gloves off._ Not being able to really feel Clint’s skin under his hands means he’s using his mouth to do all the foreplay, but he keeps his hands running steadily along Clint’s skin as he nibbles his way down Clint’s body.

 

Clint’s breath hitches, but barely noticeably when Steve licks his tongue around a pebbled bud, and his hands curl just slightly around his shoulders. Steve brings one of his gloved hands up so he can rub across Clint’s other nipple as he nibbles and rolls his tongue on one. Steve glances up to see Clint’s eyes squeezed shut, and he smiles, palming Clint’s cock with his other hand. “Sometimes,” Steve says, kissing Clint’s jawline. “You’re so sensitive.”

 

Clint only laughs quietly at him, and the laugh hitches when Steve licks down to his navel, still steadily palming Clint’s cock. “You’re going to ruin your gloves.”

 

“Mm. It’s fine; I’ll get it cleaned later,” Steve says. But he knows Clint’s got a point, so he just cups his hands back to Clint’s thighs, and opts to swallow Clint’s cock instead. He keeps his hands on Clint’s hips, angling them just enough so that Clint can squirm but not really thrust. “Come on, soldier. You’re not on duty anymore. Let go.”

 

Clint  _squirms_. His breaths are less unnoticeable hitches and more breathy gasps, his body squirming and trembling under Steve. Steve grins, lets his mouth off the organ and nibbles down Clint’s thigh. Clint’s hand comes up to clench at Steve’s hair, and Steve laughs. “Stop teasing,” Clint grumbles.

 

“I’m not  _teasing_.” Steve says, his voice soft as he nuzzles Clint’s cock with his tongue, making him buck his hips into Steve’s strong grip again. “I’m making love to you.”

 

Clint flushes at that, and Steve grins. It’s weird to see the kinds of things that can take Clint by surprise. Declarations of love, really. Clint only does it sometimes, when they’re about to go into a battle that looks bad. He brushes by Steve, tells him  _I love you_  before they dive into the heat of battle. Or sometimes when Clint’s exhausted from a particularly difficult mission, he’ll whisper it before he collapses into bed.

 

Steve is much more generous with his feelings, lets Clint know all the ways Steve loves him and more, all the time. Steve can’t help it – he’s hopelessly, head-over-heels enraptured. Just  _looking_  at Clint makes him smile and it reminds him of that beautiful girl in his grade when he was in 6th grade. She’d been so kind and nice to him even though he was a scrawny thing, and she’d kept the others from bullying him and always ate lunch with him.

 

Except better. Because Steve is pretty certain his entire body didn’t go warm and relaxed at her sight, like it does with Clint. “ _Steve_ ,” Clint says, sounding cranky.

 

“Just thinking about you.” Steve explains. Clint blinks at that, but smiles shyly and just strokes his fingers across the blue of Steve’s uniform. And isn’t that a sight for only privileged eyes – a shy  _Clint_. Steve squeezes his fingers into Clint’s hips, just a little, before kissing a line up his thigh again and licking his way up to Clint’s cock. He swallows it, and doesn’t bother dragging things out.

 

Clint’s body pulls taut and Steve doesn’t bother pulling away. But before Steve can grin up at Clint, Clint’s suddenly springing up, flipping them around so Steve ends up on the bottom. “ _Clint_.” Steve moans, when Clint unzips his pants and swallows him down eagerly. It’s almost obscene, Steve thinks in a daze, how sexy that is.

 

He’s still in full uniform, but Clint is  _naked_. Well, except his armguards, which he’s still kept on. Clint sits between his legs, his eyes sliding up to look at Steve as he swallows Steve’s not-inconsiderable length down with practiced ease. Clint knows what Steve likes. Clint drags his teeth lightly up Steve’s shaft and hollows his cheeks at the head, tonguing the slit. His hands are gentle as he strokes Steve’s balls, and Clint hums a little as he bobs his head again. “I’m gonna come,” Steve warns, and Clint looks at him again, amused.

 

Clint keeps their eyes locked as Steve comes, groaning bucking his hips into Clint’s throat. Clint isn’t strong enough to keep Steve down when he’s doing that, but Clint lets Steve fuck frantically into his throat, keeping his hands flexed on Steve’s hips to keep him from going too far. Clint grins lazily when Steve tugs him up, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. “I was just sucking on your dick,” Clint says, when they part.

 

Steve snorts. “I was doing the same for you, five minutes ago.” Clint quietly laughs at that and shrugs, sliding off Steve. Steve catches him around the waist and presses his quickly hardening cock to Clint’s thigh, making Clint huff out a soft laughter. Steve keeps an arm around Clint’s waist as he digs around for the lube they keep in the bedside drawer. He hesitates for a moment, wondering how he’s going to do this with his gloves on, but then Clint snatches the lube from him and squeezes it onto his own fingers. “Clint?”

 

Clint quirks a smirk at him, and gracefully slides up, pushing Steve to the foot of the bed as he leans on the headboard, spreading his legs wide and hooking an arm under his thighs. He squeezes lube onto his hand, and, never breaking eye contact with Steve, slides a finger into himself.

 

Steve fights the urge to curse and scoots closer. The buckles and straps on his uniform catch on the blankets and he tugs himself free impatiently. “You look filthy.” Clint whispers, which Steve can’t quite comprehend because  _Clint_  is the one with his index finger knuckle-deep inside himself. “Captain America with his hard cock hanging out of his pants.”

 

Steve looks down and flushes a bright red. He looks obscene, with his zipper down and his cock hanging out, pulsing thickly and leaking pre-cum. He has half a mind to tuck himself back in, but Clint strokes a bare foot up his thigh. “Don’t,” he says. “I like it.”

 

Steve raises an eyebrow, but Clint continues on fingering himself, and he loses his ability to talk. He can’t take his eyes away as Clint adds another finger, and then another. “Enough,” Steve says, unsure he can actually take anymore. Clint looks like he might want to protest, but then he looks up and Steve realizes it’s just pure desire.

 

He pulls Clint toward him, his uniform brushing on Clint’s bare skin, and sinks inside with one smooth stroke. They both let out a muffled groan and Clint tugs Steve closer, biting down on his shoulder. “Oh, damn,” Steve whispers. “The – the military thing – I forgot about it.”

 

Clint laughs at that. “Don’t worry about it. I just – just wanted this.” He beckons to Steve’s uniform. “Just. Captain America. The epitome of justice, fucking me into the bed.” He grins wickedly up at Steve. “Isn’t that filthy?”  
  
Steve snorts, snaps his hips sharply out and in just to see Clint moan. “I’m Captain America with or without the uniform, you know.”

 

“Yeah, but without the uniform, that’s _my_ Steve. You know? The one I know. I already have you. With the uniform, you’re everyone’s. Everyone’s Captain America. Everyone’s hero. Just. Even that’s mine, though.” Clint says, a little sheepish. “It’s confusing, I know.”

 

Steve smiles, and leans up to kiss Clint. He gets it. He does. “When we first started dating, Natasha told me you were possessive.” Clint looks embarrassed, a little. “I told her that’s good, because I’m possessive, too.” He bites down on Clint’s neck, sucking a bruise into the skin there and starts to thrust, pinning Clint’s hips down with his hands as an anchor.

 

Clint’s not loud during sex – he’s not loud during anything, really. He’s all low moans and gasps and pants, but Steve makes up for it with his noise. He usually blabbers _You’re so tight you feel so good I love you so much you’re so good to me_ into Clint’s ear during sex if he’s not groaning Clint’s name or shouting when he gets close to orgasm.

 

Steve kind of wishes he could see them in a mirror. Clint, naked and spread out under him, sun-kissed body flushed red. And himself, fully clothed. In _uniform_. Captain America pounding his lover into the bed. The thought makes him groan and he looks down. Watching his cock pull in and out of Clint makes him shout out Clint’s name as he comes, snaking a hand between them to grip Clint and stroke him to completion.

 

“You’re gonna get stuff on your uniform,” Clint says, when Steve collapses on him.

 

“Too late.” Steve says, sighing. Sex with Clint has a tendency to wear him out, and he languidly wraps his arms around Clint, pushing Clint’s thighs up and gyrating his hips. Clint snorts when he feels Steve harden again. “Can I – Can I do it from the back? Are you too sore right now?”

 

Clint considers it. “All right, I can go another round.” He ran his hands up Steve’s blue-clothed arm. “But I’m not gonna be the one explaining to Fury why there’s cum stains on your uniform.”

**Author's Note:**

> The ever so talented [kait](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kait/pseuds/kait) has drawn me something truly for this fic! Go [here](http://yingyueliuying.weebly.com/uploads/1/2/7/9/12799451/steve_clint_uniform.jpg) (warning: nsfw)


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